Yearbook
by blueashke
Summary: Santana's yearbook goes missing, and when she gets it back, she discovers that only one person has written in it. HAPPY STORY


Usually, when yearbooks came out at McKinley, the more popular kids would just put their name in them, then send them to make the rounds of the school, letting the masses write flattering things about them to prove just how much they were adored and feared.

This year, the Glee Club did basically that with each other. The only problem was that at the end of the week, Santana couldn't find her yearbook. Not only that, but Rachel and Quinn had both remarked to her that it had never made it to them. As she asked around, no one seemed to have seen it. Sure that this was a plot by someone trying to mess with her, she was busy slamming things around in her locker when she heard a familiar voice clear itself behind the door. When she closed it, there was Brittany, holding the missing item.

"Sorry, I wanted to make sure I got to write in it."

Given all the drama that had been going down with them, Santana was actually surprised at this. She took it and started to open the book. "No, wait," Brittany said. "Read it later, kay? I just didn't want you to hurt someone looking for it. I gotta go." And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving a very confused brunette behind her.

Santana made it all the way home before she couldn't take it any longer. She threw her backpack on her desk and sat down on the bed to find where Brittany had written. They usually dedicated an entire page in the back to each other's writing space, but she'd left it all blank before setting it with the rest of the group's books. When she opened to the first page, she was greeted with writing. Every centimeter of blank space on the inside cover and facing page was full of Brittany's loopy script. Not drawings, not doodles, not gigantic "GO CHEERIOS" pronouncements like her usual yearbook fillers, but just lines and lines of writing. The bottom right hand corner contained the only other mark, an arrow pointing to the right. When she turned the page to the table of contents, she realized that this, too, was full. And so was the next page, and the next, and the faster she flipped pages, the more she realized that she'd need to get another book if she wanted anyone else to sign it, because Brittany had filled up every space on every page of the entire book.

As she came to the last page, the writing changed. Rather than what was obviously prose, the back inside cover was written in an inward working spiral of sorts, though square as it followed the edges of the book so as to fully utilize that space. And the spiral contained only four words, over and over again. 'I'm yours, proudly so.' At the center of it was the only drawing - a heart with 'Brittany and Santana forever' written in it. A sob broke from Santana as she read this. Flipping over so she could lay on her stomach as she read, she turned back to the front of the yearbook and started to read.

'Dear Santana,

I'm writing this here because I want you to know how I feel, and this way you can read it and you don't have to worry about people hearing us and I don't have to worry about you walking away. And I have so many feelings and thoughts and maybe this way I can get them all out, even if my cat is going to read this before I give it to you. It's taking a really long time too because I want all the words to look right so there aren't scratch outs in your book because I know you hate it when things get messy like that. Like the time when...' here she broke into a rambling story and lost the focus, and Santana had to smile as memories from childhood incidents with Brittany started to flow over the page. Now she understood why it had taken up so much space. She finished the first page and turned to continue.

'... and then you pushed Artie down and he cried and the teacher got all mad at you for hitting a kid with glasses and she wouldn't listen to you that he'd been being mean to me. I know I'm not good at remembering things, but I'll never forget that one. I didn't remember it was Artie until he said something about it last week. I mean, you know how long I thought he was a robot, I forgot he used to walk when we were kids. Maybe that's why he was so surprised when I asked him out? Anyway, that was the first time you stood up for me. And then when the boys used to move my stuff in the cubbies at school and make me think I'd lost my backpack and my lunch, you always found them for me and yelled at them. And when...' Santana had forgotten that story about Artie as well. She remembered hitting the kid, but not that it was Artie. She wondered what he'd said to Brittany when he brought it up. She was loving reading Brittany's memories of their history, but the back of the book was calling to her and making her wonder when the point was going to come. But she couldn't skip forward; it felt like it she really needed to read what Brittany had said.

An hour passed as she kept reading. Each page had more stories, some relating to the pictures (either directly or through Brittany's own way of thinking, after all, she didn't seem to have a train of thought, she had bumper cars), but most were just stories of the time they had spent together over the sixteen years they'd known each other. Some made her cry, 'Remember when you fell off the monkey bars and your tooth went right through your lip and all your dad would do was yell at you for messing up your new clothes? It still makes me sad when I see the scar, you shouldn't have had a scar, but you're so pretty anyway.' Some made her laugh in the silence of her room, 'So then you told me that the reason that unicorns had horns was so that they could pop bubbles and turn them into fairy dust and make things fly and I spent all summer trying to pop bubbles with my head.' She didn't even remember why she'd explained that one to Brittany, but the memory of their 12 year old selves head butting bubbles as they flew through the air led to the story that Brittany herself told next. 'And then we both tried to pop the same bubble and we bumped heads and you started to cry and I kissed your forehead and then you kissed mine and then you kissed me and I knew then that I loved you.'

As she continued through the book, mentions of how Brittany felt came more frequently. '... and you made Quinn stop calling me dumb and told me to have you fix my homework, even when she was the one in the same class as me and it made me so happy... but then you went and had sex with Puck without telling me first and it made me so sad... and you told me you weren't in love with me and it made me want to cry and cry because I knew you loved me but you didn't have to say that and it HURT, Santana. All it did was hurt and I went to Artie and I thought you would come and make me stop with him and you didn't and then you tried to tell me that it wasn't cheating if we kept having sex and I let you think that I believed you and all the time I was just hoping you'd ask me to break up with him. All I wanted was for you to ask. But then you waited and waited and I started to forget when you used to tell me you loved me, even in a fun way. You didn't hold my pinky anymore. You didn't call me all the time, or text me, or even poke me on Facebook... even if the only time I knew you did that was when you helped me log in on your computer.'

By now it was dark out. Santana had had to stop several times to cry. Here was an outpouring of love and affection, and all she could focus on was the stories where she hurt Brittany. She was glad they were written down here, where she could remember them forever. She reached the end of the ad pages, and turned to the last five, the ones specifically left blank for autographs and notes. She'd missed it the first time through, but at the top of the first page, she saw an actual title. "Why I Love You" The tears started to flow again just looking at that, but she grabbed another tissue, wiped her vision clear (her mascara was long gone, but she didn't care), and started to read.

'All my life I've known I was different. I don't get things like you do, like other people do. But you get me. You let me say silly things and don't get mad when I forget to keep them in my head. You listen. You help people understand me. You never tell me I'm stupid. You gave me my first kiss. You let me see that you weren't really some bad ass, just that you knew how to be. You have pretty hair, even if it's not all yours. Your smile makes me smile, no matter how sad I am. I like your boobs.' Santana laughed again. This stream of consciousness writing that Brittany was doing really gave her more insight into how her best friend thought. 'You know all the ways to make me feel good, even the ones that make people get grossed out, like my armpits. You stare at me when I dance and I can feel it and it makes me better. You don't laugh at me or embarrass me.' On and on it went, for four pages.

The page opposite the spiral had a different message. 'I told Artie I couldn't be with him anymore. I do love him, and I don't think I'm gay, but I know I'm bisexual. But I'm not in love with him. I'm in love with you Santana. It's always been you. I've been so afraid that if I said yes you'd want to hide it again and I can't wait anymore. I thought it would be safer if I just stayed with him and waited for you to come to me but I just can't take it anymore. So this is my love song to you, my Landslide. Because you'd be sad if I did it in Glee and embarrassed you and made you cry in front of them. I know you hate it, even if you still do it. But tomorrow, when you come to school, I'm ready to be yours, and proudly so.'

Even though she'd seen the last page first, and had known something like this was coming, the last words shocked the teenager. The level of insight and the breadth of topics that Brittany had covered had to be more than she'd seen at one time in their lifetimes. They'd known each other since their mothers put them in the same swim class at one, but this was just epic for her. And now she knew what she had to do.

The next morning, Santana was up and ready two hours before school, because she'd barely been able to sleep. Finally it was late enough that she could justify leaving the house. She drove to school, getting one of the best parking spots because she was so early. She debated between waiting in her car, or waiting at her locker, and decided ultimately that if she was going to do this, she wanted to do it in the open, so that Brittany knew she was serious. So she got out and walked inside, noticing that the hallways were still mostly empty, but not totally deserted. As she turned the corner nearest her locker, she was surprised to see Quinn leaning against it. "What are you doing here?" she asked, more than a little shocked.

"Playing look out. I wanted to make sure you didn't hurt Brittany. We all did," the blonde said, nodding down the hall. As she turned, Santana realized that at various strategic points throughout the long hallway, she could see other members of the club, all watching her. "Santana, it's time. Either you make your stand, or you walk away from this. She deserves more than to be in secret."

"Are you going to let me get a word in edgewise? Why do you think I'm here early? Of course I want to be with her, I just had to know..." the change in Quinn's facial expression told her all she needed. "She's right behind me, isn't she?" At a nod, she bit her lip, and turned around.

The light in Brittany's face was shining as they faced each other. The smaller girl considered her words, and discarded them all in favor of the one way she knew she'd never had a problem conveying her feelings. She stepped up, wrapped her arms around her best friend, and pulled her into a long and deep kiss. Ten seconds passed, then fifteen, then twenty. When they got to about thirty seconds, Quinn cleared her throat loudly. "Okay, I'll see you in the choir room." They didn't come up for air, though Brittany did swing them around so that she was against a locker, pulling Santana up tight against her.

When at last they had to stop lest they pass out from a lack of oxygen, the girls rested their foreheads against one another, panting, and just letting themselves reconnect. Both sets of pinkies were linked, though they kept coming apart as each one intertwined their fingers for a moment, before returning to their resting position. Suddenly, they heard clapping. Santana moved to rest her head against Brittany's shoulder as she turned slightly, to see the whole Glee club, led by a beaming Quinn, cheering for them. Even Artie was in the back, clapping though he didn't seem to be as happy as the others. She'd worry about that later. For now, she let a genuine laugh bubble up out of her as she let the love she saw coming from her friends reflect back to them.

She did have one thing she needed to say though. "By the way, Britt, you owe me a new yearbook." 


End file.
